


Broken

by Takethepainawaybae



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Chronic Pain, How Do I Tag, M/M, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takethepainawaybae/pseuds/Takethepainawaybae
Summary: Darkiplier is centuries old living in a long dead body, and everything that comes with it.
Relationships: Wilford Warfstache/Darkiplier
Kudos: 65





	Broken

On one freezing cold winter afternoon, if someone were to actually look up at the manor that rest atop the mountain, they would see a silhouette of a man standing in a massive window, seemingly looming over the whole world. 

Inside said manor though, if you truly knew this man, you would know that he is in pain.

Massive pain.

Dark stood, leaning heavily on his desk as he felt his bones creak like a door that needs oil, he can feel his spine pressing down on his hips, the weight of his cracked skull not helping. He always felt this pain, always ached. It wasn't often that it was this bad.

Of course, he told no one. He is the one thing- yes thing- holding this manor together. He is the one thing that has the whole city trapped under his thumb, them unknowing to what he's done to keep it the way it is.

Plus, Dark was sure a human would run for the hills if they saw him. They would be afraid. Not because that he is crippled (though, he won't admit that.) But because of the screaming, the blinding blue and red images that repeated themselves over and over, making pained faces that few have ever seen. 

They kicked, thrashed, screamed and cried but it was all silent. Silent to everyone but Dark. He could hear them, their cries of worry, their disappointment, their anger. He could hear it all, bouncing back and forth in his head like he had gone mad. 

And he was mad, but compared to his partner? He was the most normal being in this world. 

Wilford Motherlovin Warfstache, a name that was new, but old all at the same time. He used to be someone else, someone freshly scarred by the horrors of war, and trust freshly broken by his closest friends. Now though, he was a madman that no longer understood death. Wilford could be laughing with someone, smiling and getting along like they were an old friend, and within the next second he would stab them, claiming that they'd be fine. Stating that they would brush themselves off and stand back up in no time. 

So when they finally died on the ground, Wilford would shrug, say they were taking an unprompted nap, and go home. 

And that's exactly what happened today as Wilford basically kicked down the door, stumbling inside with a laugh. 

"Darky! I'm home! You would not believe the day I had!" He cheered, sliding of his red and white stripped coat and hanging on the coat rack, along with his top hat, revealing the bright yellow button-up shirt, faded pink suspenders that clipped to his pants, and a matching pink bowtie. 

"Darky? You here?" Wilford called out again, pulling out his revolver to fidget with as he walked around the massive manor. It's hallways always seemed different, looping around and around or leading to a dead end. It was never the same. 

Wilford snapped his fingers in realization, disappearing in a poof of pink smoke at that same moment.

The madman smiled bright as he appeared in the monochrome office, a very strange contrast to what he wore. Wilford turned as he spoke, making wild gestures with every word. "Dark! Let me tell you! These people just wouldn't listen to me, they just screamed and ran away! I was just showing of my firing skills!! Am I that-" Wilford cut himself off, frowning as he looked around the room and saw Dark on his knees, gripping tight to his desk as his whole body shook, his head hanging low, like he didn't dare lift it.

"Dark... Why didn't you call me?" Wilford asked, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer as he walked over, crouching down and resting his hand on the other's back, though even his feather light touch seemed to hurt Dark, watching him flinch ever so slightly. Dark made a weak noise, barely audible over the high pitched ringing that his void of an aura gave off. 

Wilford pushed Dark's hair behind his ear, witnessing the inky black tears that fell from his eyes, which were shut tight in pain.

Then, a very quiet, very pathetic "please.." left Dark's lips, cracking open his eyes ever so slightly to look up at Wil, the bright colors of his outfit against his aura giving him a headache. That was fine though, nothing was worse then the pain of feeling all of his bones grind and grate against each other, slowly turning to dust. 

Wilford nodded, reaching over and grabbing Dark's wrists ever so gently, moving them to rest on his shoulders. Dark held onto the other tightly, collapsing into him with a sob, the black tears staining Wilford's shirt. He couldn't care though, right now, he wanted to stop the pain the other was feeling. 

"Don't move..." Dark muttered quietly as he forced Wilford to lay flat on the ground, which the other gladly did. "What do you want me to do then?" Wil asked, careful with the rise and fall of his chest, knowing any slight movement would hurt Dark. Hurt him bad.

Dark was silent for a long while, listening to the voices as they call him weak, lazy, pathetic, sad and all these other words that would kill someone one way or another, but Dark was already dead, if the rotting skin and a heart that never beat didn't prove that, nothing would. 

"....hold me..." His horse voice grated against his ears, he'd been crying for hours by now, since he decided to get out of bed thinking that it's go away. It was just to much now.

Wilford smiled sadly, trying to hold back his own tears as he wrapped his arm gently around the entity's waist, while his opposite hand raked through his dark hair, soothing him as much as he could. 

Only minutes later Wilford could hear the soft breath of Dark who had fallen asleep (or passed out due to pain, but at least he was resting.) And Wil stayed there, laid out on the floor for the rest of the night. Staring out the window and watching the sky turn pitch black before he himself fell sleep, snoring softly.

No one knew about how weak Dark truly was.

No one but Wilford Motherlovin Warfstache.


End file.
